Arachnophobia
by Swindler
Summary: Panic: a sudden overwhelming fear, with or without cause, that produces hysterical or irrational behavior./One-shot/


When I opened the door to my house my sister was already sitting on the couch, looking expectant. I dumped my backpack and kicked off my shoes before turning towards her.

"What?" I asked, lip curling. She looked triumphant. That was never a good thing.

"Mrs. Irving was pulling out of the driveway when she saw me and pulled back in. She's very concerned for your health." She got up and stood in front of me. "Clearly I had no idea what she was talking about, because as far as I know you're in perfect health, so I just had to ask." She smiled in that way that makes my blood curdle. She seriously has the grin of the devil. "Apparently last Sunday—you know, when you were working on that old useless car that you keep in the garage—she just happened to be working in the garden when she heard a…commotion coming from our side of the street." She raised her eyebrow. You know: that one little flick. It frustrates me because it's so…condescending; the condescending eyebrow. "And guess who was making it?"

I sighed angrily, "Oh, I don't know, Leah. Was it one of your boyfriends singing outside of your window again?"

"No!" She said getting flustered. "It was you!"

"Silly me." I rolled my eyes.

She crossed her arms and did that walking-further-into-the-room-while-talking-to-you-over-her-shoulder-thing. She sat back down on the couch. "She said it looked like you were having a seizure." patted the cushion next to her, "Do tell little brother."

Sunday, what did I do Sunday?

Oh yeah.

It was in the afternoon. We were back from Church and my sister and parents were inside having tea or something—whatever it is my suburban nuclear-family do on Sunday afternoons. I chose to work on my car; my lovely, wonderful, blue, '68 Camaro. I worked my ass off for that car. It was my Uncle Michaels. One day, while he was working on it, he turned to me and said, "Jase, you're like a son to me, so I'd like to give you my Camaro…" then the other shoe dropped, "for 3,500 dollars."

I thought for_ sure_ I was getting it for free.

I had the radio turned up and I was singing along like I always do, working on the brakes because they were pretty trashed. It was a manly heaven. Yes, I'm very manly, thanks.

So there I was, having a perfectly grand time, when I felt something plop down on my head. I thought nothing of it and went to sweep it off thinking it was water or oil, but…it…moved…so I went after it again. And it…crawled away again. Then I realized. It was a-

"Sp-sp-sp-SPIDER!" The creature I feared most. I swatted violently at my head, but every time I thought I had it, it moved. "OH MY GOD! SPIDER!" I danced around trying to get it off, tripping over the cord to the stereo and unplugging it. "Little eight-legged demon!" I was near tears trying to get rid of it. "OFF, OFF, OFF!"

I spotted the solution. The Shop-Vac in the corner; my salvation. I just about flew over to it, and fumbled with the plug. I turned it on and desperately vacuumed the little bugger up and out of my hair, running the vacuum thoroughly through.

When I was certain, absolutely certain, it was off of my body I relaxed

I made the mistake of actually telling her this.

She started laughing hysterically. "I knew you had problems, but _this_! Using a shop vac on your head for an itsy bitsy little spider!" She held her sides and flopped over on the couch. "Oh, man, this is just priceless! I can't wait to tell _everybody I know_! You vacuumed your head! I wish I could have that on tape. That could just make my day over and over and over again! Now I know why they call you Skittery! This is just too great." She finished, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I have Homework." I grunted, leaving her on the couch to collect herself, and headed up to my room to call Dutchy. I getting rid of her was as easy as vacuuming up a spider.

When Dutchy picked up I asked, "Have I told you how much I hate my sister?"

"Not since breakfast!"

A/N: Based on a true story. Read, review, enjoy!


End file.
